


Time Bombs don't stop Beating

by ScarletPotter



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Crying, Father-Son Relationship, Hurt Peter Parker, Not Incest, Parent Bucky Barnes, Peter Parker Feels, Peter Parker Whump, Protective Bucky Barnes, Teen Peter Parker, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, if peter and bucky were in hydra together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 06:47:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23467114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarletPotter/pseuds/ScarletPotter
Summary: Peter Barnes had felt like a time bomb ever since he was born. An inanimate being that just existed for a dull purpose. To count down the number of days left till he breathed his last breath, and his eyes saw the cruel world for the last time.Because for him, everything is a void. A deep, vast void of nothing but pain and tears.Peter’s first memory was pain, in fact, the pain in his heart when rough hands threw him onto the floor and plunged needles as he squirmed and cried. He didn’t want any part of HYDRA, he didn’t ask to be given these abilities. Looking back, he would’ve been okay dying as an infant. He really would have.For the first two years of his life, all Peter knew was how to submit, and how to take pain exactly how his masters wanted it. Nothing less, and certainly, nothing more. He was forced to recite the bitter three phrase mantra that always rolled off his tongue like venomous poison, because that’s what it was. A cruel reminder of what his life, what his destiny was. And Peter hated it.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Peter Parker
Comments: 4
Kudos: 88





	Time Bombs don't stop Beating

Peter Barnes had felt like a time bomb ever since he was born. An inanimate being that just existed for a dull purpose. To count down the number of days left till he breathed his last breath, and his eyes saw the cruel world for the last time. 

Because for him, everything is a void. A deep, vast void of nothing but pain and tears. 

Peter’s first memory was pain, in fact, the pain in his heart when rough hands threw him onto the floor and plunged needles as he squirmed and cried. He didn’t want any part of HYDRA, he didn’t ask to be given these abilities. Looking back, he would’ve been okay dying as an infant. He really would have. 

For the first two years of his life, all Peter knew was how to submit, and how to take pain exactly how his masters wanted it. Nothing less, and certainly, nothing more. He was forced to recite the bitter three phrase mantra that always rolled off his tongue like venomous poison, because that’s what it was. A cruel reminder of what his life, what his destiny was. And Peter hated it. 

When he was two years old, he was assigned his first cell, with his trainer. His trainer happened to be The Winter Soldier, known to carry no compassion and execute the mission report. But for the first time in decades, Bucky broke through James’ exterior at the horrors of what HYDRA had done to the  _ child _ in front of him. 

The two-year-old was bathed in grime and had ashy marks under his eyes suggesting the abundance of tears that had streaked past there. Bucky knelt gently in front of the shivering child whose eyelids fluttered rapidly, suggesting that tears were threatening to fall. Bucky felt a wave of protection fall over him as he held his arms out, inviting the child to come closer to him. 

Bucky’s trained eyes fell over an overwhelming multitude of scars that littered the boy’s pale skin. The boy was small in comparison to him, but every inch of skin was detailed in some sort of metal penetration. Bucky felt disgusted, he knew HYDRA was sick and manipulative, but to do this to a child, that was unspeakable. 

The child leaned as far away from him as possible and refused to meet gentle eyes as he spoke quietly, “Are you like them? Gon’ hurt me too?” 

Bucky approached the weeping child and planted him on his lap. He wrapped his flesh hand around the toddler as he rocked him, something his Ma had taught him oh so long ago. His metal hand was carefully rubbing circles across the boy’s trembling back. 

Bucky spoke softly, “I know you’re scared, I’m too. But it’s going to be okay, alright? I’m going to protect you and keep you safe. I got you, what’s your name bud?”

Peter didn’t fully comprehend the words Bucky was telling him, but he found himself trusting the metal-armed man since this was the first time he had received human contact and not been hurt within five minutes. So the toddler leaned his head against his chest, accepting the inviting warmth. He whispered softly as his eyes fluttered shut, “Peter.”

Bucky forced an enthusiastic smile over his face, and the gesture stirred memories of a certain scrawny blonde-haired man with glittering blue eyes and extended a hand, “Hello Peter, my name’s Bucky. We’re going to be okay, we have each other now, alright?”

Peter’s chocolate-colored eyes blinked back up to the predestined soldier, “Promise? Not gonna hurt Peter?” 

Bucky lightly chuckled, a sound that he hadn’t heard since well, forever. He gently patted Peter’s curly hair and replied solemnly, “Never Petey. We’re buds, I’m never going to hurt you, alright?”

Peter yawned, an indication that he was satisfied with that answer. Bucky cracked a half-grin as he carried the toddler when a problem hit him: Where would Peter sleep? The “bed” he had wasn’t much of a bed, and there was no way he was going to let someone as small as Peter sleep on the floor. And Bucky didn’t want to leave the kid alone, what if he had a nightmare, or was afraid of the dark? Bucky concluded,  _ I guess he’s sleeping in my arms then. _

He carefully laid on the makeshift bed and pulled the thin covers around Peter, making sure that the kid was warm and cozy. Winter was cruel, especially the Russian winter. And the kid was light and too thin for his liking. 

Peter attempted to call, “Pucky?”

Bucky repeated softly with a slight sense of amusement, “Bucky, with a b. P is for Peter.” 

Peter attempted once more, even more confused, “Pucky? Peter?” 

Bucky booped Peter’s nose with a loose chuckle, “Close enough, is something wrong?” He didn’t know much about kids, but he knew that they were delicate. 

Peter admitted softly, “Don’ like dark. ‘s where bad men are.” 

Bucky nodded understandingly, “That’s alright, I’m going to keep you snug, no one’s going to hurt you. See, I’ll use my metal arm if they do, sounds good?” He couldn’t help but fall for the child, there was something about him,  _ innocence or maybe purity _ that begged a protector. And that was what Bucky Barnes will be. And that he would be. 

  
  


With a few hiccups along the way of course. Because Bucky was the Soldier, and Peter was well, Peter. 

…

_ Ten years later… _

Peter felt like a time bomb. Every day felt like time slowed and all he existed for was the delivery for pain. Every day he was forced to train and practice urges of killing. Peter hated it, he hated the way the cool blade rested between his slim fingers, it was thin, but when he curled his fingers around it, he felt an uncomfortable grip that relished horrors within his mind. He didn’t want this. And he had a habit of crying whenever he was angry, and he felt frustrated at the blade and at the whole situation of it all, and within a matter of seconds Peter was trembling, and small droplets of water were spilling down his thin frame. 

The trainer viciously spat, “Что с тобой не так?!” The stiff man harshly smacked Peter across the face, and Peter knew better than to recoil at the stinging sensation that filled his cheek as the man continued with words rolling off like venom, “Ты тупой ребенок! Просто возьми проклятый клинок, что ты, детка? Вы ничто иное, как бесполезная затея. Было ошибкой полагать, что вы можете реализовать наследие HYDRA, исправить себя, или мы с радостью сделаем это за вас. Соблюдайте паукообразный.”  _ You stupid child! Just hold the damn blade, what are you, a baby? You are nothing but a worthless quim. It was a mistake to ever think you could carry out HYDRA's legacy, fix yourself or we will gladly do it for you. Comply Arachnid. _

The twelve-year-old clenched his eyelids shut, internally calling himself stupid and weak because he couldn’t even hold a single knife properly. He straightened his spine and tried to hold it correctly, only to receive a harsh backhand to the face. Peter froze, panic quickly flooding through the small frame that occupied the bearer of Peter. 

The man was quick to sneer with disgust, “У тебя нет родителей, некому бежать. У вас есть только ГИДРА. И это никогда не изменится.”  _ You will always be alone, you have no one but HYDRA. And that will never change.  _

Peter felt bubbling tears form as the knife slipped out of his hand. Peter felt the instincts kick in, and used his enhanced strength to keep himself from slapping himself. He felt like a failure, he couldn’t even do the slightest thing correctly. He hated the feeling of stupid that was engraved within the aches of his hollowed bones as he heard the crackle of a whip. 

Peter clenched his fists as the heavy Russian ordered, “Вы будете произносить свои строки после каждого удара. Понимаю?”  _ You will say your lines after each hit. Understand? _

Peter knew better than to reply and tried to still the quivering of his lip. 

One smack. Я слаб.

Second smack. Я бесполезен.

Third smack. Я ничто. Я ничто, без ГИДРЫ. Даже тогда я ничто. И я всегда буду ничем.

Fourth smack. Я истекаю кровью для ГИДРЫ.  _ I bleed for HYDRA.  _

The heavily accented man tsked, “Excellent. However, you stuttered, so I will give you one more smack.” Just as he approached the trembling boy, there was a harsh clink of metal and when Peter opened his eyes he saw his Papa shoving the man against a wall. His man spoke harshly and bitterly, just as he had been taught how to. “Don’t touch him. Or I will kill you. Am I clear?” 

The man looked annoyed until his ex-asset’s metal arm was squeezing his airways shut, “Da.”

The Soldier pressed further, “And you will not stop us, nor will you ever come for us. You will tell your superiors that we are done. The Winter Soldier and the Spider are soldiers no more. Do I make myself clear.”

The officer disgruntled, “Crystal.” 

Somewhat satisfied, the Soldier threw his arm off the officer but kept it poised in the event that he would need it once again. He turned to the shaking boy,  _ his shaking boy _ , and scooped him up and held him to his chest. 

Bucky did his best to hide the frown that grew across his lips as he noticed the abundance of cuts and bruises that wasn’t there before he left for the mission that changed everything, “малютка, are you okay?” 

Peter nodded firmly because he was okay now, when his Papa was here he knew he was okay because HYDRA couldn’t hurt him. They knew that his Papa would retaliate. 

Bucky let out a grunt in affirmation as he grabbed Peter’s blankie and left the building that had kept two lost souls prisoner. 

Peter didn’t dare ask what was happening, still caught up from the fear of his beating and the fact that his Papa had been away for two months, which was an automatic subjection to a multitude of beatings. And he hated beatings. Because each beating was only another painful reminder that he existed for HYDRA, he cried, worked, and bleed for the power-hungry obsessed freaks. But he knew that he was going to go somewhere safe, because he was with his Papa, and his Papa would never hurt him. 

  
  


…

_ Fast forward six months… _

Peter clutched the metallic hand of his father as they walked through the outskirts of a town, which one Peter didn’t remember. The past six months were rough, but nothing compared to the years of hell he had endured in HYDRA’s clutches. Bucky had said that they weren’t safe because Bucky was the Soldier and HYDRA spies might be everywhere. Which is why they’ve had to move constantly, starting from getting out of America to Romania, where Bucky had concluded would be the safest place for them being its geographical location on the map. And it would be a while until they got to Romania being that they were in Austria at the moment. It was harder for Peter, he wasn’t a super soldier like Bucky, he didn’t have the attributes of stealth or endurance. Something that Bucky would forget sometimes during their long walks into the late night and Peter was grateful when his papa remembered. 

Today was one of those days where Bucky came to a slow stop asking softly, “Peter? We can take a little break, we’re almost there, ten minutes. Sit, have some water.” Peter gratefully accepted his papa’s suggestions, taking small but steady sips to preserve the fluid for later when they may really need it. After a few minutes, he stood back up and the pair continued their venture. 

By the time that they got there, Peter was exhausted. All he wanted to do was sleep, completely tuckered out from all the day’s walking. He climbed onto the bed, and within a matter of minutes, utterly exhausted. He hoped that they wouldn’t have to move again so soon, it took a lot out of him with all the walking they had to do. 

Unfortunately for Peter, when the twelve-year-old finished lunch, his papa announced that they were going to have to leave soon. Not wanting to display his disappointment, Peter inquired, “Why? We just got here?” It was an innocent question, was there imminent danger nearby? 

And then curiosity shot down the cat, on a perfect hit and kill mark. 

Bucky snapped, “Peter, I already told you, it’s not safe. Don’t be dumb. I thought you would be able to grasp something as simple as that, guess I was wrong. Stop complaining, I taught you to be better than that. You should be grateful that you’re still alive, and not being tortured by HYDRA!” 

The veteran hadn’t realized that he had raised his voice, “I would just shut my mouth and be happy that I even came back for you! I could’ve left you, but I didn’t! So get it through your thick head that the world is bigger than your stupid whines! Grow up!” 

Peter apologized, dipping his head down embarrassed. He hadn’t expected Bucky to react the way he had, “I’m sorry Papa. I was just asking.” 

Bucky rolled his eyes, “Of course you are Peter! You’re always innocent, you can’t do a single thing wrong, ever! That’s why it’s always everyone else’s fault for you! Your mistakes! Your punishments! Because you don’t get it! We can’t stay here, don’t you get it by now! We’re monsters, freaks, criminals Peter!”

He was towering over Peter, whose eyes were welling with tears as Bucky growled harshly, “You know I didn’t have to come back for your pathetic self, but I did. Don’t make me regret that decision. You want to get caught and be back there Peter?” His voice increased volume by the word, to the point where Peter was trembling. 

Peter was crying silently as he forced his gaze to linger on the floor. 

Bucky raised his hand, “Answer me!” Peter flinched. It was uncontrollable muscle memory as Peter whispered humiliated for his apparent ignorance, “Please don’t hit me.” 

Bucky spat vehemently, “I’m not going to hit you, I’m not that pathetic as you.” He gave one last seeth towards Peter and then turned away to pack his bags. 

Utterly hurt, Peter ran out of their apartment, crying because he managed to anger the one person who actually loved him. Now he was all alone, he thought as he sat on the small porch outside their apartment as tears silently rolled down his face. He buried his ashen and scarred hands in his head to muffle his sobs as he couldn’t but think how much of a failure he was, and that now Bucky’s going to leave him and he’s going to die all alone.  _ It wouldn’t be much,  _ the boy thought sadly, he always knew that deep down in his heart that one day his papa was going to leave him. 

He didn’t care how cold he was or the fact that people walking by were looking at him like he was something meant to gobble and then spit out, all he could do was cry and helplessly think that he deserved all the pain that happened to him in his life. 

He hugged his knees tight to his chest to preserve the little heat he was able to hold on his own as he buried his head on the curve of his knees, so he could look out at the sad miserable world in front of him. Bucky had told him how big the world was after his missions, telling him about the different countries after his missions, telling him about America, and London and Germany. Peter had always wondered how big the world was, surely there were places of happiness and positivity. But whatever he had seen was accompanied by gloom. But then Peter realized, what if the gloom existed because he did too?

He shuddered, and took the opportunity to rub his hands together to become warmer, something his papa had taught him. It appeared that his papa was right, perhaps he really was as stupid as everyone had told him. Perhaps his masters were right. Peter hated to accept it, and Bucky had always told him otherwise, and if Bucky was smarter than him, then surely Bucky was right. So if Bucky said all those things, then he had to be right about him. 

He was close to crying all over again when a blanket was draped over his small form, and the shuffling and creaking sounds indicated that someone was sitting next to him. 

The two sat in silence, Peter shivering as he tried his hardest to silence his crying-aftermath hiccups and Bucky trying to clear his head. The father never meant to hurt Peter, the boy had already been hurt enough times.  _ It still didn’t make it right or okay  _ he thought to himself. 

“Peter,” he started. He didn’t know how to apologize, let alone to a child but he figured he might as well give it a shot, after all, he had a lot to apologize for. He opened his mouth when Peter cut him to the chase. 

Peter’s voice was hollow as he spoke, “You don’t have to, I’m well aware of what I am to the world. Nothing.”

Bucky frowned, “That’s not true.” 

Peter shook his head, sounding like he was trying to convince himself more than his papa, “Yes it is. Then why else does everyone say that to me? The guards, you, it’s all the same. You promised that we were buds, that you wouldn’t hurt me,” he sighed, “but that’s exactly what you did.” 

Bucky started as he moved closer to his son, “I know I did, and I wish I hadn’t broken my promise to you. I never meant to get upset at you, and it doesn’t make it right in the slightest bit. But, I am sorry, so sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean any of those things that I said, I had no right too, and whatever my excuse was, it doesn’t matter. I made you a promise. You don’t have to forgive me right now, but I do want you to know that I am sorry. I wasn't going to hit you, I could never do that, or leave you to suffer.” He paused adding, “And I do love you. In fact, I love you so much. You’re not ignorant or dumb, you’re smart in your own way. Your unique.” His metal arm reached to pull Peter closer to him, knowing that his altered DNA made him more sensitive to the cold. He hated the cold too. 

Peter was silent at first, but then he threw his arms around Bucky as he cried into his chest. He whispered between cries, “You really think that?” 

Bucky nodded as he raked Peter’s curls, “I know that.” He allowed Peter to bury his head against his chest, and held it there speaking as he looked down in the bundle of his arms and wondered how he had gotten so lucky, “I am sorry bud, and don’t ever forget that I love you, okay?”

Peter nodded as Bucky carried him back inside their apartment, “I know. I love you too.”


End file.
